It's all HIS fault
by MorganHopes
Summary: *completed* Draco gets jealous of Hermione and Krum and is still angry a year later. He comes up with a devious plot to win Hermione over once and for all, but manages to get things dreadfully wrong. Mainly fluff and a rather weird ending.
1. Angry for no apparent reason

Disclaimer: Harry Potter's not mine. Why else would I be writing fanfiction?  
  
Draco Malfoy stood up, hurling the brassy omninoculars that he had bought at the previous year's Quidditch World Cup into the sea of red-robed Bulgarian supporters. He stormed out of his family's private box and down the stairs; anything to get away from Viktor Krum and his crowds of fans. He couldn't stand to live on the same planet as him, and now that Draco's little brother had been sent to Durmstrang, he was forced to spend every second weekend watching Krum play for the Bulgarian side, or listen to his little brother harp on about how "Famous Viktor Krum" used to go to his school. "What's so special about him? Why does everyone like HIM? He's not better than me – he even walks strangely!" He muttered angrily to himself as he descended the stairs; looking for some way to get back to Britain, back to Hogwarts, where he could complain about Krum as much as he liked without being ostracized by his family.  
  
As Draco raced down the stairs, he knocked over an elderly witch who was coming up, but he kept going, taking no notice of the people he was hurting or really where he was going. Blind hatred boiled up in him, his mind irrationally linking events, causing him to get angrier with every cheer the crowd let out. He rounded a corner, to barrel into two security wizards, dressed in dark blue robes and armed with wands.  
  
"Vhere do you sink you are going, sir?" One of the guards asked in a thick accent, as they each grabbed one of Draco's arms and propelled him towards a small room, where he was kept under guard for the rest of the match. He spluttered and reasoned with the guards, but to no avail.  
  
"It's Krum's fault, all of it, I didn't do anything!" Draco pounded on the wall, pretending it was Krum.   
  
"It is zhee fault of zhee Bulgarian seeker, Viktor Krum, that you are in zis place with me? Zat is a gut one!" The guard laughed, and Draco became more infuriated, it wasn't funny. He tried to apparate out, a thought that had only just occurred to him, but was unsuccessful.   
  
"There must be a charm placed on the room," He thought.  
  
The guard, seeing his attempt at escape, decided to humour him, "So, vhat did 'Krum' do to get you in here?"  
  
Draco found that he was so angry he could hardly think straight, and for a while he was unsure as to what had started his massive I-hate-Viktor-Krum spree. Then the memories came flooding back, as he and the guard were taken back to early December the previous year, when Draco had been in his fifth year at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. 


	2. Draco remembers

As he slid quietly into a chair at one of the large oak tables in the library, Draco asked a question to the mound of bushy brown hair that covered the face of the person who was reading "Hogwarts: A History" for about the two hundredth time.  
  
"How about it, mudblood, wanna go to the ball with me?" He drawled, making the question sound a little more sarcastic than he meant to.  
  
"Your jokes just get better and better, don't they malfoy?" Said hermione Granger, as she looked up from reading her book and stared into his steely grey eyes.  
  
"Well, it's not like anyone would actually want to go with a goody two-shoes mudblood like you, Granger, and you're not exactly a sight for sore eyes either. So I decided to be the gentleman that I am, and offer you the chance to save yourself from ridicule by coming with me." He swept his hair back, making sure every single strand was in place, but his hand was shaking slightly.  
  
"How much of a gentleman you are really ceases to amaze me Malfoy." She said with a cold stare, "But it just so happens that I'd never be seen dead even touching you, let alone dancing with you. And, I'm already going with someone."  
She picked up her stack of books, and, slinging her bag over her shoulder, flounced out of the library.  
  
He remained at the table, stunned at what had just transpired. Draco Malfoy had just been turned down? Of course, it wasn't as though he had actually expected her to take the bait, it was just a cruel joke, but Draco dreaded what would have to happen next. The only decent looking girl in Slytherin was Pansy Parkinson, and she looked a bit like a rat that had been dropped in acid and then resurrected. He resigned himself to fate, and trudged his way back to the common room, all the while the searing pain of rejection burning a hole in his chest.  
  
As the oak doors to the great hall opened, Draco struggled to keep from itching himself as Pansy Parkinson's frilly robes rubbed against his hand and gave him the sensation that he was taking a roll of sandpaper to the ball. "What did she do, get the house elves to soak it in a vat of starch for a few weeks?" He thought to himself as they walked at the front of the Slytherin crowd, and he tried to look as if he was enjoying himself.  
  
On the way in, Draco discovered Granger's 'mystery' partner. She was on the arm of Viktor Krum, and she looked a lot different to her usual self. Her hair was sleek and pulled back, and her robes were simple yet elegant, the complete opposite of Pansy's over-the-top frills and pink. He looked her in the eye, as if asking her why she had chosen him. He was an honorary Slytherin, after all, and it was no better or worse than if she HAD gone with Draco. She stared back at him, and for once he felt the pain he had inflicted on everyone else for the past three and a half years. He therefore turned his attention to Krum, and his eyes burnt icily into Krum's, challenging him. No Malfoy was EVER left in the lurch (and forced to go to a ball with a girl who looked like she should be a dessert). 


	3. Exquisite torture

Draco's flashback ended, and the guard began to clap. Draco's face burned pink, certainly a change from his usual pale skin tone, and he asked to be let out, since the game had finished a few minutes ago. The guard opened the door, and he walked out, feeling a lot better for telling his story and with his head a lot clearer.  
  
As he left the stadium, he saw the familiar form of Krum leaning against a tree, as if waiting for someone. Draco stopped, wondering if this was the time to get his revenge. "Poor little Krum, all alone, nobody to protect him now," he thought, as he fingered his wand inside his robes. He thought carefully about which curse to use – there was a particularly nasty one that the Freckled Weasel had tried to use on him once, and Draco laughed at the thought of Krum belching slugs everywhere.   
  
He stepped quietly closer to Krum, making sure his presence was not felt, when someone appeared right in front of Krum. It was a girl with bushy brown hair, and although his face was turned away from him, Draco immediately knew who she was. She fell into Krum's arms, and he held her close, whispering into her ear. Draco seethed. Nothing was going the way he wanted it, and everything seemed to boil down to HIM. His stomach churned, and he turned away from the couple by the tree. "Who wants to see that mudblood doing anything, anyway?" he asked himself, as he apparated out of Bulgaria. It was a rhetorical question, but his heart answered anyway. You do.  
  
The wind whipped through Hogsmeade as the late October sky overhead darkened, casting strange shadows on the joke shop and Honeyduke's as Draco apparated into the main street. Hogsmeade was as close as he could get to Hogwarts before the protection charm threw anyone trying to apparate in far away (He had learnt that the hard way: When apparating to Hogwarts for the first time he ended up somewhere in the South Pacific, surrounded by sheep and more sheep). The door to the Three Broomsticks creaked open, and he sat himself down at a corner table, then ordered a Butterbeer from Madam Rosmerta.  
  
He pondered the day's events. This morning he had been so full of himself, so sure that his plan would work. It was a good plan, too. With his mother and father being how they were, Draco had grown up with little romance around him. But he had learnt one thing: girls liked presents. He had thought long and hard about what to get her, and the answer had hit him right in the face in potions just the day before.   
Hermione had asked Neville if she could borrow some bat's blood, and he had decided that it would make the perfect gift. The only place to get decent bat's blood was the Apothecary in Diagon Alley, and Draco just happened to have a whole bottle of it spare (for throwing at first years, and other such uses). He had wrapped the bottle carefully up in some parchment, tied it with some wool he found lying around, and then gave it to an owl to leave on her bed.   
  
"Obviously," he thought, "She hadn't found it before she left this morning. Or maybe that stupid owl never got around to delivering it. I'll throttle that thing if it didn't." He got up, and began the walk back to Hogwarts. Tomorrow was the start of a new week, and maybe his luck would begin to change.  
  
Monday morning came, and Draco's luck did change, but not for the better. Potions with the Gryffindors was first, and he hoped that maybe she had received his present. As they filed into the classroom. He tried to see if there was any sign of recognition on her face, but there was none. She was happily chatting to Potter and Weasley, occasionally scolding them for trying to copy her homework, and then trying to get them to stop laughing when Professor Snape entered the room.  
  
"Today we will begin an assignment on truth potions. Hopefully, we will be finished by Christmas. That is, unless you are all as thick as you were last week." Snape drawled, getting right to the point as usual.  
"I have decided to pair you up. Potter, you will sit over there with Longbottom." Harry Potter moved his things so that he now shared a cauldron with Neville Longbottom.  
"Miss Granger, since I don't want you anywhere near Mr Longbottom, lest you feel the desire to whisper the answers in his ear, you will come up here and share a cauldron with Mr Malfoy." He leered, and tapped the bench that Draco was sitting at with his finger. Hermione got up, gathered her things, and waltzed over to Draco, before gracefully perching herself on the stool next to him.   
  
Draco gulped, hardly believing what had happened. It was torture, pure torture. He had to sit next to her for the entire class, just watching as she gently measured ingredients, and seeing her face gently lit by the fire under the cauldron, eyes sparkling, the perfect witch. Every time he tried to say something, his mouth went dry and his words caught in his throat, even though he did not know what words he was going to say. He really couldn't say anything. He had a reputation to uphold, of course, what would people say if they saw Draco Malfoy chatting with a mudblood? He kept his mouth shut, but desperately wanted to know what was going on inside her head. Her beautiful head. He didn't think he could stand to spend the next few months without knowing how she felt about him; it would be too much to bear. When the class came to an end, Draco Malfoy had a plan.  
  
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A/N: Sorry about the short chapters, I'm trying to make them longer but they just don't want to be. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and I'll try to get more up soon! 


	4. Unwanted gifts

Hermione Granger ran down the stairs from her dormitory and into the Gryffindor common room. Tears were streaming down her face, and she held in her hand what looked suspiciously like a bottle of blood. She scanned the room, looking for her friends Harry and Ron, but they were not to be found. She ran at top speed out of the portrait hole, down the stairs and across the grounds of Hogwarts, waiting to get far enough away so she could apparate out.  
  
She appeared outside a stadium in Bulgaria, and found Viktor Krum waiting for her by a tree.  
  
"How did you know to be here?" She sobbed.  
  
"How do I know to be anyvhere for you, Herm-own-ninny?" He opened his arms, inviting her to lean on him and cry her eyes out. "Zhere zhere, tell me vhat has happened," he comforted her.  
  
She wrapped her arms round his neck, having dropped the bottle of blood somewhere along the way, and told him her story.  
  
"This morning, I had just come back from the bathroom, when I found a package on my bed. I opened it, and found a bottle of blood inside!" at this, her sobbing became stronger, "At first I thought it was just a joke. You know – one of the other girls playing a prank. But nobody was around, not even sniggering quietly. And that Malfoy's been so mean to me lately, this was just the last straw." Her tears overcame her, and he wrapped his arms tighter around her, just like he had at the Yule Ball almost a year ago. That triggered a memory in Hermione, a memory of why she had gone to the ball with Viktor in the first place.  
  
---- Flashback-----  
  
It was a cold, blustery day in December, and Hermione was in the library reading one of her favourite books "Hogwarts: A History". She was sitting at one of the big oak tables, and was quite comfortable there, until a pale, blond haired figure slid himself into the seat opposite.  
  
"How about it, mudblood, wanna go to the ball with me?" He sneered, and she looked up from her book. His words didn't surprise her; she had heard things like this from him. Cruel jokes that only he found funny, and were usually at the expense of the dignity of someone else.   
  
"Your jokes just get better and better, don't they Malfoy?" She hissed. She did not have time for his childish games now.  
  
"Well, it's not like anyone would actually want to go with a goody two-shoes mudblood like you, Granger, and you're not exactly a sight for sore eyes either. So I decided to be the gentleman that I am, and offer you the chance to save yourself from ridicule by coming with me." For a brief moment, she actually got the feeling that he wanted to go to the ball with her. But that was stupid, and his words spoke louder than the look in his cold grey eyes. She hit back, angry at him for wasting her time and for making her heart jump, if only for a second.  
  
"How much of a gentleman you are really ceases to amaze me Malfoy." She said with a cold stare, "But it just so happens that I'd never be seen dead even touching you, let alone dancing with you. And, I'm already going with someone." She wanted to hurt him, and hurt him bad, but her words seemed to have no effect on him, and he said nothing as she ran out of the library.  
  
By the time she got to the portrait hole, tears were streaming down her face. Her bag, which she had carelessly slung over her shoulder, decided that it gave up, and split, spilling her books all over the stone floor. She bent down to pick them up, angry at her bag and angry at Malfoy.   
  
"It's all HIS fault! Why did I have to get so upset? Now look what's happened!" She thought to herself.  
"Why did I have to go and say that? I'm not already going with someone, and now I'm just in one great big mess. All because of HIM and that stupid joke he decided to play at my expense!"  
  
At that moment, someone came up behind her, and she turned to look into the face of Viktor Krum.  
  
"I saw you run out of zhe libray-ry and vanted to know if you vere ok." He looked at her, and he understood what she was feeling. After all, they had talked for many hours every day, and they were as close as brother and sister.   
"Hermy-own, vill you go to zhe ball with me?" He asked tentatively.  
  
"Of course I will," she breathed a sigh of relief – that was sorted, "But only as friends, remember."  
  
"Of course." He knew that they could be nothing more than that, she had clearly spelt that out to him more than once.  
  
------End flashback--------  
  
Potions first thing on a Monday morning was never good, and this Monday looked to be worse than most. Snape had just assigned partners for their truth potions unit, and Hermione had been paired with Malfoy.  
  
They sat together in front of a cauldron, but that was practically the only thing they were together on. Hermione made an effort to get lost in her work, like she usually did, but it was rather hard with Malfoy staring at her like she was from another planet the whole time. She measured the ingredients, and set about making the potion, all the while feeling his eyes on her. She wanted to say something, but didn't dare to, for fear that he would just tease her or come back with some 'witty' remark. She had been burnt one too many times by Malfoy, and was not about to let that happen again. Class ended, and she felt relieved to get out of the clammy dungeon, away from Malfoy and his piercing gaze.  
  
In potions about a month later, they were working on a very complicated truth potion, which would make the drinker answer truthfully to two out of three questions. In Hermione's opinion, it was a useless potion, but nobody ever questioned Snape.   
  
"By the end of this term, I am hoping that one of you will be able to produce the very complicated and strong veritaserum. Hopefully, at least one of you has the skill to concoct such a delicate and subtle potion such as this." Snape looked straight at Malfoy as he said this, scarcely aware that Hermione, probably the smartest witch at Hogwarts, was in the same room as him.  
  
She turned back to her beetle eyes, of which she had to count out three hundred and twenty-seven exactly, and noticed Snape walking down the room to Harry. He stopped in front of him, and Hermione strained to hear what the menacing potions master was saying.  
  
"It's a funny thing, isn't it Potter. Some supplies have gone missing from my private stores. Powdered Bicorn horn and shredded Boomslang skin, in fact. I seem to remember these exact same things going missing a few years ago, and did I not say that the person who stole them had to be very careful? You'd better watch it Potter, or your little secret might be found out."  
  
With that, Snape stalked back to the front of the room, with both Harry and Hermione stunned at what he had just said. They hadn't stolen anything this time, so who had? Hermione sighed, and looked at Malfoy.   
  
"Maybe you shouldn't have gotten your little boyfriend to steal those things for you Granger. Looks like he's on the way to being expelled." He sneered at her. Obviously he had been listening too.  
  
"Shut up Malfoy, this doesn't concern you. In fact, why were you listening in the first place? Why am I talking to you at all?" He always seemed to have this effect on her, making her all worked up. She looked into his eyes, and saw pain. She had hurt him, and he turned away from her as he struggled to blink back tears. Malfoy was crying? Well, not like he had never made her cry. 


	5. Strange truths

Hermione was sitting in an armchair in the common room when Harry came down a morning a few weeks later. Ron was sitting next to her, attempting to decipher a complicated chart for divination, except he couldn't seem to find which way up it went.  
  
"Uhh, Ron, did you get up in the night and decide to give me a haircut?" Asked a bemused-looking Harry, who was still in his pyjamas.  
  
"No, why?" Said Ron, not looking up from his chart. Hermione stifled a giggle.  
  
"Very funny, now just tell me why you did it," He put his hands on his hips, waiting for an explanation. Ron finally looked up from his chart, and burst out laughing.  
  
"It's…it's…terrible!" He managed to blurt out between guffaws. Harry really did look a sight. A giant chunk of hair from the left side of his head had been cut off, leaving an unsightly bald patch. The two friends looked at Harry with confusion, and he sank down in a chair next to them.  
  
"I just don't know why anyone would have done this. Why would someone want my hair?" He warmed his feet by the fire, having forgotten to put on slippers before he came down.  
  
"Probably one of the first years who think they can get a good price for it on the black market." Ron added his opinion, always going for the most far-fetched of the ideas, although sometimes his were not nearly as far-fetched as the actual truth. That idea reminded Harry of the time he had accidentally ended up in Knockturn Alley while using floo powder, and had been offered a tray of toenails. He shuddered.  
  
"Probably someone like Malfoy playing a joke on Harry. You know, paying someone to come in and cut his hair off. Or Dobby. Probably taking it to make a nice protection potion for you. Anyway, it won't be a problem anymore." Hermione whipped out her wand, said a lengthening charm, and tapped Harry's head. The hair grew back into place, completely covering the bald spot and blending in with the surrounding hair.  
  
"Woah," Breathed Ron, marvelling at Hermione's skill. It was nothing compared to what they knew she could really do, but impressive nonetheless. Harry returned to his dormitory to get changed, then they all went down to have breakfast in the hopes that this would be an uneventful day.  
  
The day was practically uneventful, except for Neville dropping his glass on the floor at dinnertime, something that regularly occurred roughly every two weeks. Hermione was walking back to Gryffindor tower, having excused herself saying she had Arithmancy homework to do, when an arm pulled her into an unused classroom.  
  
"Harry! What are you doing in here, how did you get here so fast?" She was surprised, to say the least. Harry was looking at her with something in her eyes she had never seen before. He pushed her up against the wall, and pressed his mouth into hers. She responded to the passionate kiss with a fire that equalled his, and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. When they came up for air, Harry led her over to some chairs and they sat down.  
  
"I wanted to spend some time alone with you. Away from…" He halted for a second, "Ron, and the others."   
  
"What others?" She thought, but brushed the question away lightly.  
  
"I wanted to talk to you. I like you so much Hermione, and I want to know so much. About you, where you grew up, everything." He was so passionate, so forceful, that Hermione felt she had to tell him everything. It was like he had cast some spell on her. But of course that couldn't be true, she had made a perfect shield charm this afternoon, according to Professor Flitwick, and it would not wear off for a few more hours.   
  
They talked far into the night, and were caught up in animated stories of family reunions, birthdays, and childhoods (mostly Hermione's though, Harry was not too eager to share his past. She couldn't blame him, after what he had been through). When they got up to leave, Harry pulled her around to look at him.  
  
"Please don't talk about this, I don't know what Ron would say. And, well, I want to keep this just between the two of us. Meet me back here tomorrow night. Same time, same place." He kissed her on the cheek and rushed out, speeding off before she could say another word. Hermione walked back to Gryffindor Tower, and was not surprised to see Harry already there, lounging in a corner.  
  
Of course, she went back the next night, and so did he. And the night after that, and the night after. In fact, after three weeks of their little nighttime meetings, Hermione really thought she was falling for Harry. Although he pretended that he didn't know anything during the day, it was worth it for what he was like later on. She found herself looking forward to their little trysts every day. Harry was so different when they were alone, like nobody else mattered, and his eyes burnt into hers like small green stars, filling her with joy and pleasure. Hermione had begun to fall for him.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
"By now, your 'veritaserum' should be ready," Snape drawled, stalking menacingly around the classroom as he surveyed their handiwork, "That is, unless you have all managed to make as gigantic a mess out of this as Mr Longbottom over here." He looked over at Neville, who was struggling with bright blue everlasting-bubble covered hands, having spilt his cauldron but a few seconds ago.  
  
Hermione turned away from the clear liquid in the cauldron in front of her, to look at Ron, who was trying to cover up the fact that his potion was hot pink and smelt like rotten pumpkin. She was so engrossed in looking at the mix-ups other students had managed to make, that she didn't notice Draco Malfoy filling a small vial from the cauldron, and slipping it inside his robes.  
  
"Now, this is what the correct potion should look like," Said Snape to the class, as the stood in front of Malfoy and Hermione, holding up the cauldron containing their perfect veritaserum, "Fifty points to Slytherin for your excellent work, Mr Malfoy. Oh, and ten points to Gryffindor for your help, Miss Granger."  
  
The class ended, and Hermione rushed back to her room to brush her hair a little before meeting with Harry. She wanted to look respectable, of course. When she arrived at the empty classroom, Harry was already there, as usual. She moved quickly over to him, and leant in for a kiss, but something on his face told her to stop.  
  
"What's wrong Harry?" She whispered, not sure whether he wanted her there or to be alone.  
  
"Nothing, no, nothing. Just, before we carry on, I want to know how you feel about me."  
  
Her mind began to spin. "Why is this so hard for me to answer? I should be able to tell him, just like that. But I can't, why not?" her thoughts were whirling around faster than a toad with a spinning charm put on it, and she let out a giant sob. Harry walked to the front of the room, and returned with a glass of water in his hand.  
  
"Here, drink this, it might help. I'm sorry, just take your time." She wondered why he was being so serious all of a sudden, but took a sip of the water anyway.   
  
"I love you, Draco." She blurted out, looking into his hesitant eyes and seeing them soften. "Wow, this really did help," She thought, looking at the water in her hand. Then it hit her what she had just said. Draco? Her hand went up to her mouth as she quickly drew in breath, and then raced out of the room. She burst through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room to find Harry calmly sitting next to Ron, while writing an essay for History of Magic. She had already known she would find him here; the pieces had clicked into place just after the words had escaped her lips. The stolen ingredients, Harry's hair, the veritaserum they had made in class that very day. Why hadn't she seen it before?   
  
She stormed up to her bedroom, intent on making that smarmy git pay for what he had done to her. Somebody had a lot to answer to, and it wasn't Harry. 


	6. Noli incendere

Draco paced around the empty classroom for a while, before rushing out the door and up some stairs, coming to a stop in front of a painting of a fat lady dressed in pink. The look in her eyes had been too much to bear when she ran away, and he had to do something to make it better.  
  
"Please let the password be the same," he prayed to anyone that was listening, before muttering, "Brandy snaps."  
  
"I don't know if I should let you in dear. I mean, you are wearing Slytherin robes after all," Maybe this was going to be harder than he thought; the polyjuice potion had worn off already.  
  
"If I know the password, what difference does it make?" He was getting angry now; he needed to get in urgently!  
  
"Well if you say so, but don't blame me if they all pounce on you in there," She sighed, swinging forward so he could climb through into the common room. Heads turned as he did so, and they immediately recognised him. Anger started to brew, coming at him from all sides of the room, but there was no time for that. Draco ran across the room and up the stairs as fast as he could, looking desperately for the dormitory labelled '5th years'. There it was. No that was the boy's, maybe down this staircase. Aha! He opened the door and stepped in, quickly locking it behind him. A few seconds later pounding could be heard on the other side of the door.  
  
"You're lucky they didn't get you, you know." Stated the familiar voice of Hermione behind him. He turned around, and looked her right in the eye.  
  
"Look, I just came here to apologise. I'm really sorry for what I did, I never meant it to turn out this way," He muttered with his head bowed, sounding like a five year old who had just been told off for putting spiders into their sibling's hair.  
  
"Now why don't I believe that, Malfoy? Too bad I didn't keep any of that veritaserum; it could have come in handy. Oh well, I'll have to make do with this." She handed him a small glass of a pale blue liquid, which looked like one of the truth potions they had made earlier on in the term. He swallowed it, almost gagging from the strong grassy taste.  
  
"Sure, that potion came in handy, although now she'll only be getting the truth two out of three times," He thought to himself. He was sure that that was the potion he had just drunk.  
  
"Think again, Malfoy. It wasn't that potion I counted out all those bloody beetle eyes for. What could it be?"   
  
For a moment Draco was distracted, "She really does look great when she's angry," he thought, "Although I do prefer her when she's around 'Potter', so much more relaxed then."  
  
"I look great when I'm angry, do I?" Said Hermione, knocking Draco out of his thoughts.  
  
"Uhhhh," he mumbled, while thinking to himself, "Did I just say that out loud? Oh well, not like I can pretend I didn't now."  
  
"No, you can't pretend I didn't hear that, Malfoy, although I don't believe you said it out loud." She interrupted his thoughts again, this time leaving him rather confused.  
  
"If I didn't say it out loud, then how did YOU hear it?" This was just getting strange now.  
  
"Aren't you meant to be Snape's prize student? Come on, don't tell me it's all for nothing." She was just taunting him now, which pissed him off to no end. "Why is this mudblood getting the better of me here? I SHOULD be able to figure this one out.." he thought.  
  
"Mudblood now is it? And I don't think you're gonna figure it out any time soon. It was the potion. A little something I invented myself. See, I can hear your thoughts, but you can't hear mine. Anything you think to yourself, anything you see, I can see. Brilliant, wouldn't you say?" She was smirking now, something that she had obviously been practising, and was getting quite good at, in his opinion.  
  
"Well Granger, since you've got me right where you want me, I'll tell you anything you want." A Malfoy admitting defeat? Surely not… But if he was going to win back her trust ("As if she ever trusted me," he thought with a snigger) he had to do whatever she wanted.  
  
"I actually did trust you, once, Malfoy. But I got hurt, and it's not going to be so easy to get that trust back any time soon." She was boring into him with those deep brown eyes, just willing him to take the bait. What she didn't know was that he had already taken it, hook, like and sinker. "Firstly, I would like to know exactly why you started this 'campaign', and what possessed you to turn into Harry?" The way she said it, he was some raving loony. Well, thinking about it, he was.  
  
He began thinking back to the first day he had really noticed her. When he asked her to the Yule Ball, when he saw her and Krum dancing together, when he saw them outside the stadium, when he worked with her in potions, when they were talking.   
  
As soon as she finished asking the question, Hermione was hit with a wave of images, memories and feelings. But these were not hers. Draco was remembering, and what she saw startled her. Instead of a gawky, slightly outcast girl she saw a beautiful lady, laughing, frowning, sneering, walking. She saw herself through his eyes, and was amazed at what she saw. She also felt his emotions as he reminisced. Hate, anger, sorrow, joy, and even… love? As soon as she felt that, everything stopped. She saw nothing, felt nothing. Hermione fell to the ground.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
As Hermione fell to the ground, her brown hair caught on the bright blue flame left on the dresser, and promptly burst into flame. Knowing that the water on the nightstand was useless, as Hermione was famous for conjuring up waterproof flames, he pulled out his wand and muttered 'noli incendere'. It did the trick, and her hair stopped burning, although the fire had crept so far up her head that barely any of her hair was left now. He used a lengthening charm on it, bringing it back to its full length, and, thickness. In his situation, he thought, some people probably would have made her hair longer/shorter/thinner, but he liked it just the way it was. As she opened her eyes, he remembered why he had done all of those things, and as she leant up to kiss him, he thought, "I'm the luckiest guy alive."  
  
-----Jump 10 years into the future------  
  
"And that, my friends, is how we first kissed," Said Draco, lifting his glass to the roomful of people in front of him and looking over at Hermione, resplendent in a white silk gown, tiara and matching gloves. His audience clapped, and raised their glasses,  
"To Mr. And Mrs. Malfoy!" They shouted, smiling brightly as Hermione and Draco proudly sat before their friends and family.  
  
"Ahem," coughed Harry Potter, "As I am the best man, I feel it is up to me to make a speech at these such, proceedings. As you probably all know, Draco and I weren't the best of friends, in fact…" Harry launched off into the tale of their years at Hogwarts, and the following ones on the England Quidditch team together. It was, of course, a story that Draco knew well, so he took this time to look around at his guests.  
  
To his right were Harry, Ron, and Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom (called Ginny and Neville by their friends). To his left sat Pansy Parkinson and his cousin, Blaise Zabini, along with his mother and younger brother, his father having died five years ago when Voldemort was finally destroyed. Scattered at tables in front of them were Dumbledore, Snape, the entire Weasley clan, Professor Lupin and Sirius Black. Earlier on, Viktor Krum had appeared in the back of the hall, but a quick point from Draco's wand had sent him flying off into space. Either that or Greenland, he didn't quite know. Either way, nobody could spoil his perfect day.   
  
The whole crowd was smiling at the happy couple, and as Harry wound up his speech and Draco turned to Hermione, he thought once more how lucky he was…  
  
----------------------------  
  
A/N: Yeah, I know, this was a short story and I suck at endings. Honestly, I just give up near the end and want to start a new one. Well, exams will be over soon and I will start a new one. It will be crazy and a bit mental but it will be funny. Ok I'll just shut up and watch the reviews not roll in. 


End file.
